by Donna Hill
“I get to keep the crib in the divorce settlement,” Elliot teased.
Ashley turned toward him and couldn’t fight back the smile moving across her mouth. “Don’t make me do a Madea on you and saw everything in half,” Ashley tossed back referring to Tyler Perry’s Diary of a Mad Black Woman.
Elliot tossed his head back and laughed, a deep soul-stirring laugh that warmed Ashley from the inside out, and for a hot minute she imagined what it would be like to hear his robust laughter each day. “Oh, you are dangerous,” he said, wagging a finger at her. “You want me to drop you by your place to pick your stuff up?”
“Thanks for the offer. But I have my car.”
He nodded slowly, his dark gaze rolling over her. “The only place she didn’t show us is the bedrooms.”
Her heart knocked in her chest. She looked away from him and walked over to the fridge. She pulled open one of the double doors. “She was right, fully stocked.” She took out an apple from a bowl on the bottom shelf. When she stood and closed the door, Elliot was right there. Her breath caught and stuck in her throat.
“Any more apples?” he said, but she would swear in a court of law that wasn’t what he was really asking.
She swallowed and handed him hers. The hint of a grin lifted the corner of his mouth before he took a deep bite. She was mesmerized by the way his lips played with the fruit, the movement of his jaw as he chewed. She could almost taste the succulent juice that exploded in his mouth. Her nostrils flared and she tugged the door open to separate them, gave herself some room to breathe. She took another apple, slammed the door shut and walked out.
Elliot strolled out behind her his eyes glued on the sway of her hips encased in the form-fitting jeans. Well at least they had what could serve as a small football field to separate their respective bedrooms, he mused. Besides, Ashley Temple came off as a woman who would have a padlock on more than her bedroom door. And his momentary flights of fancy of being locked between those beautiful thighs of hers, and thawing that chilly heart, was a waste of his brain cells. The last thing he was ready for was a tryst with his partner in the middle of a case.
“Plan on wearing your wedding band, Mrs. Morgan?” he asked coming into the living room. “Or are you one of those modern women who doesn’t need the shackle of a ring?”
She glanced at him over her shoulder and was two seconds away from rolling her eyes, when she saw what he held in front of his face. His hand was covering those dangerous eyes, palm facing inward. The sparkle of gold from the third finger of his left hand completely caught her off guard. Seeing him with a wedding band on his finger—even if it was fake—unsettled her in a way that she couldn’t find the words to explain. She dug in her jacket pocket and pulled out the band that Bernard had given her earlier. For drama’s sake she took her time sliding it on her finger. She held up her hand for inspection. “Looks like we’re stuck with each other.”
There was nothing he loved more than a challenge. A slow grin moved across his mouth. He watched Ashley walk away. Touché, Ms. Temple. Touché. Let’s see if you’re up for the ride.
Chapter 7
Ashley returned to her apartment. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the past few hours of her life. The reality that she would be living under the same roof as Elliot Morgan, for an indefinite period of time, was slowly beginning to solidify.
She tossed her purse on the couch, the wedding band that she’d sarcastically flashed at Elliot, picked up the light. She held up her hand. It suddenly felt heavy, as if the enormity of what she was about to embark upon was wrapped round her finger and had real meaning. Don’t be silly, she chastised herself. It may be real gold but the union is a sham.
Her cell phone chirped inside her purse. She reached for it, dug around inside and pulled out her phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Elliot.”
She took in a sharp breath. “Yes. Is something wrong?”
“Not at all. I know you said back at the apartment that you didn’t need any help, but I was planning on renting a small U-Haul to take my stuff and I figured you may as well put your things in there, too. Make the most of the space. Know what I mean? Pretty sure you’ll want to take your music. Beats a dozen trips by car.”
Why was he being so nice to her? His hot/cold personality was driving her crazy. “Hello?”
“Oh…” she snapped to attention. “Uh, sure…I guess. When were you planning on the great escape?”
He chuckled at her quip. “How long will you need to get your things together?”
“I’ll need at least a day…and I don’t mean to-day. More like all day tomorrow.”
“No problem. I’ll get it set up for Saturday. Say around eleven.”
Even though he was being the apparent perfect gentleman, his last comment, though couched in a question, was a final statement. Somehow, he’d played the whole scenario out in his head and like a chess master he’d anticipated her response.
Feeling that she’d probably been had, she was of the mind to tell him just what he could do with his U-Haul. But as her grandmother always told her, don’t chop off your nose to spite your face.
“How ’bout nine?” she counter-offered, needing some infantile mental leverage.
“Oh, early riser. Nine is fine with me. See you then.”
Before she could think of something snarky to say, he’d hung up. Annoyed at herself for being so dimwitted around him she promised herself that she’d be on her game the next time they went head-to-head. She tossed her purse on the couch and stomped off to her bedroom.
Mia, Savannah, Danielle and Ashley sat in their favorite booth at The Shop sipping on mimosas. It was the end of a long day for all of them. Mia had client meetings and site visits all afternoon. Savannah was brain dead from studying for her bar exam, finally taking on the challenge after too much goading from her husband and friends. Danielle had spent the afternoon shooting a bevy of temperamental models for a Victoria’s Secret ad. And Ashley had spent her day sorting through her belongings and deciding what to take to her new abode. The girls had agreed to help her pack once they’d had some food and a drink under their belts.
“To a relaxing weekend,” Savannah said, on an exhausted breath, raising her glass in a toast. Her sister friends did likewise.
“Since Ashley is so embroiled in her ‘arranged marriage,’” Danielle quipped, winking at Ashley, “I took the liberty of looking up this Elliot Morgan who has our girl’s panties all in a knot.”
“He does not!” Ashley weakly protested.
“Anyway,” Danielle continued drolly, before ceremoniously pulling out her iPhone. She moved her finger around on the touch screen until she found what she was looking for. She turned the phone to face her friends. “Behold, Mr. Elliot Morgan.”
A series of wide-eyed oohs and ahhhs, hopped around the table.
“Whoa, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Mia said squinting at the full-color head-and-shoulder shot.
Savannah nudged her. “Put your glasses on. He’ll look even better.”
“Very funny,” Mia snapped, notorious for refusing to wear her glasses in public, which had become the standing joke between her friends.
“Hey, ladies. I heard the best of the best were going to be here,” Traci said in greeting, stealing the line from Top Gun.
“Hey, T,” they chorused, welcoming the newest member to the table and their sisterhood. Traci Bennett originally known as Brenda Forde to the girls, had been an agent of Jean’s years earlier. She’d managed to leave The Cartel and started a new life, and had Mia not been assigned to uncover an elite escort service run by her former boss and lover Matthew Burke, Traci’s identity may have remained secret forever. She’d been Matthew’s personal assistant at Avante Management and it was with her help that Mia was able to crack the case.
“What did I miss?” Traci asked as she slid into the booth.
“Mimosas and a picture of Ashley’s new man,” Danielle teased, which earned her
a poke from Ashley.
Danielle giggled and passed the iPhone to Traci.
“Wow. You lucked out, my sister.”
“Yes, but as the saying goes, you don’t have to live with him.”
Savannah leaned forward. “Come on. How bad could it be?”
Ashley sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m sure my imagination is making it out to be worse than it could ever possibly be. I…just…” she hesitated, hunting for the right words to describe her confusion. “He’s…forget it.” She looked from one to the other. “Let’s eat. We have packing to do.”
They ordered, talked, caught up with ongoing Cartel cases and one another’s lives then headed over to Ashley’s apartment.
“The apartment is unbelievable,” Ashley was saying as she went through her closet.
“I’ll have to start working on your housewarming party,” Mia said as she folded and placed clothes in Ashley’s suitcase.
Ashley stopped what she was doing and turned to Mia. “This case bothers me,” she said, her voice low and intimate.
Mia sat on the edge of the bed. “You want to talk about it?”
“It’s…I just wonder why Jean picked me. You know she always has a rhyme or a reason for everything she does. Nothing is random or coincidental.”
“She assigns people to cases to either force them to prove themselves, test their loyalty or help them to discover their strength,” Mia said.
Exactly, she thought. What is it for me? Her honey-brown eyes were almost pleading for an answer that she knew Mia couldn’t give. What is it that Jean knows about me?
The girls did their inventory of Ashley’s belongings and a thorough inspection of Elliot as he lifted boxes and bags onto the back of the U-Haul rig. They all but fell over each other, helping him and trying to make small talk, which meant uncovering his entire life in twenty minutes or less.
Elliot remained cordial and mildly amused at Ashley’s protectors. But he admired their loyalty and concern for their friend, which elevated Ashley in his eyes. She was obviously a woman worth caring about. Even though he didn’t have the time nor the inclination to get involved and deeply care about anyone other than himself and whatever he needed to get done.
He shut the door to the truck and turned to face five sets of evaluating eyes. They were all fabulous-looking women—from Traci with her smooth sophistication to Savannah with her petite sexiness. Danielle’s avant garde allure to Mia’s earthy sensuality. But Ashley was the one who gave him pause. She was wild and tame, spicy and sweet, mysterious and open all rolled into one delicious package.
“That’s about it. Thanks for all your help, ladies.” He leaned against the van letting his gaze bounce from one to the other.
Ashley stepped away from her crew and walked toward Elliot. “Thanks,” she softly.
He looked down into her eyes and he’d swear something jumped in his gut. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Not a problem. I guess you’ll drive your car?”
She nodded her head. “I’ll follow you.”
He lifted his chin in the direction of the quartet. “Will your friends be joining us?”
Ashley glanced over her shoulder and bit back a laugh as she peeked at the expectant faces of her friends. She turned back to Elliot. “Maybe next time.”
Their gazes connected, then darted away. Elliot walked to the front of the van then got in his car that was hitched to the front.
“I’ll see you all later,” Ashley called out, blowing kisses and waving as she opened her car door and got in. “Thanks for all your help.” She pulled out behind Elliot. A tingle of anticipation and something akin to fear warmed her insides.
Chapter 8
It took them countless “excuse mes,” “thanks,” “no problems,” and several hours to unpack and get relatively settled. They found themselves face-to-face in the center of the living room.
“All done?” Ashley asked on a breath, her hands hugging her hips.
“Yeah, how ’bout you?”
“Almost like home,” she said in jest.
Elliot gave a half smile. “I was going to check out the fully stocked fridge. Hungry?”
Her stomach rumbled in response. “Starved.”
He led the way to the kitchen and they checked the refrigerator and cabinets.
“I make a mean steak,” Elliot said, pulling a package of sirloin from the freezer.
“Sounds like a plan.”
They worked together in a comfortable silence, only interrupted by the click of cutlery, running water and Elliot’s humming. Every now and again Ashley picked up on a tune he was humming and smiled, humming along with him. The vibe between them and the space they shared seemed as if this was the way it always had been between them.
Unconsciously Ashley squished the tomato that she’d held between her fingers when that singular revelation hit her. This was a job, not some reality TV show, she reminded herself, looking down at the minor mess she’d made on the counter. She stole a glance at Elliot who was putting the steaks in the oven. She drew in a long breath. Get it together, girl. She returned her concentration on finishing the salad that would round out their steak and potato dinner.
“There’s wine in that cabinet by the window,” Ashley said as they sat down to eat.
“I pass. I’ll have a beer. Wine messes with my head.”
Ashley grinned. “You’re kidding, big strong guy like you.”
He shrugged helplessly as he got up. “My Achilles’ heel, what can I tell ya.” He opened the fridge and held up a Coors, pointing the top in her direction.
“Sure, why not?”
He took out another bottle and returned to the table.
“The truth is,” Ashley admitted, twisting off the top, “wine gives me a headache.”
Elliot tapped his bottle to hers in a toast.
“So how long have you been working with Jean?” Elliot asked, cutting into his steak.
Ashley’s finely arched brows rose for an instant as she thought about it. “Hmmm. It will be three years next January.”
“How were you recruited?”
“I was working for a marketing consortium as a consultant and one of my coworkers, Mae Lin, took me aside one day and told me bits and pieces about the organization and what she did. She told me I’d be great at it because I was always looking for the next challenge.” Ashley grinned. “I was intrigued. She said it was like being in a secret sorority with cool gadgets to play with. But that the work was serious and when government agencies didn’t have the manpower, the interest or the time, The Cartel steps in. She introduced me to Jean and—” she shrugged her right shoulder “—the rest is history.”
Elliot leaned back and took a long swallow of beer. “Where is Mae Lin, now?”
Ashley smiled. “She’s a news correspondent on CBS News.”
Elliot’s eyes widened in surprised amusement. “Say what? That Mae Lin?”
Ashley bobbed her head. “Yep. Cartel members are everywhere, doing everyday jobs and no one is the wiser. That’s the beauty of the organization. Some of us know each other, but most of us don’t, unless we meet during an assignment.”
“Jean definitely runs a tight operation. The honchos at The Bureau and CIA headquarters think very highly of her.”
“What is your story?” Ashley said.
His expression sobered. “Went to the navy after high school. Figured it was the only way I could afford a college education and get off the streets. I grew up in Baltimore, around where they used to film The Wire.” He drew in a long breath and gazed off into the distance. “The things I saw in combat couldn’t compare to life on the streets of Baltimore, especially back then.” His hand tightened around the bottle neck. “I signed up for Special Ops. Stayed there for five years before I signed up with the FBI, which is where I met Bernard.”
“I didn’t know that the FBI handled cases outside of the U.S.”
Elliot’s dark eyes flashed at her. His body coi
led as if ready to strike, making her heart lurch. In that instant she again witnessed how volatile Elliot could be with just a flip of the switch. “Jean and Bernard told me you were returning from an assignment in Europe…” she quickly added, hoping to snuff out whatever fire she’d lit.
By degrees she watched him physically relax, but his eyes remained wary.
“Let’s say that I’m freelance and leave it at that. Okay?” He finished off his beer, pushed back from the table and took his dishes to the sink, rinsed, and then put them in the dishwasher. He turned to Ashley. “I’m going out for a while.” He left without another word or a backward glance.
“Well, damn,” she muttered in concert with the closing front door.
Elliot got in his car with no real destination in mind. All he was sure of was that he needed some space, some air between him and Ashley. He could feel the powder key of his emotions getting ready to explode and Ashley didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of that.
He glanced at the digital clock on the dash. It was still early. He hit speed dial on his cell phone. After three rings, Carmen Santiago’s throaty voice filtered through the lines.
